


Enjoying Each Other

by Abitfairytailforme



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Implied/Referenced Blow Jobs, M/M, None really though, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Smut, Some Humor, Some Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 09:51:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10660077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abitfairytailforme/pseuds/Abitfairytailforme
Summary: "You know that sex can be fun, right Sherlock?" Sherlock gave him a look. "It doesn't always have to be about the end result, it can just be about two people enjoying themselves.""Really.""Yup.""You wanna test this theory out?"





	Enjoying Each Other

**Author's Note:**

> First off, please don't kill me. I rarely write smut so I hope it wasn't terrible. This idea just popped into my head and, like everything else I write, would not leave till I wrote it. So, here you go, hope you enjoy it, feedback's much appreciated :D
> 
> I also apologize for any grammar errors.

The first time John noticied it was probably the first time they were doing _it._ They'd been dating for two weeks - John had finally realized that maybe he did like Sherlock after he'd kissed Sherlock from an adrenaline high - and they had stumbled into bed together. They'd had the "talk" - you know, lube, condoms, comforts, discomforts(this conversation _definetly_ was one of them) - in which Sherlock had admitted that, no, he had never had sex. Of any form, including masturbation. _"Okay, we'll go slowly then."_ John had said, smiling, understatedly. Anyway, that was the first time John noticed it, even through the haze of arousal and desire. John had tacked it up to nerves which he could not blame the other man for having. But the fact was that it became a recurring pattern.

~~~

John, normally prestine golden locks stuck to his forehead, head thrown back in pleasure, hands gripping dark curls, couldn't help but think about how much he bloody loved the man beneath him. He, for the first time that night since Sherlock'd put his mouth to use, opens his eyes and brings his head forward to admire the bobbing head that was the great detective. John's hands softened, fiddling with the detective's surprisingly soft curls. 

"You're bloody brilliant, you know-" John was fully intending to continue his praise, but Sherlock held up a finger, then pointed it to what he was currently doing. _I'm busy here_  dripped sarcastically off his actions. John was, admittedly, very confused, but he couldn't put his mind to ponder it further as the younger man slid his tongue in a way that he knew drove the former soldier insane. John had groaned, hands gripping tighter again, mutters of _Yes_  and _Just like that_  falling off his lips as his head fell back again and his eyes slid shut, insistence out of his mind for then. Post coital glow did not provide any more chance for thinking nor did the sleep that seemed to rush upon him.

~~~

John smiled even though his knees ached. He had the detective exactly where he wanted him, squirming and begging. God it was a gorgeous sight. Normally he'd dive right into it, but he couldn't help trying to prolonge this state by teasing the wiggling man. He trailed his fingers softly over the man's lithe hips, kissed around his navel, put his attention on his thighs, anything but the pulsing arousel John was very aware of and was very purposfully avoiding. 

 _"John!"_ The detective growled. John laughed but looking up he realized that the detective wasn't just annoyed because he was so impatient, no he was actually _annoyed_  that John was messing about, teasing him, not getting to the point. That had been another time John had noticed it, but he had been to busy granting Sherlock's wishes and finally acknowledging the around sex in front of him

~~~

John smiled up at the gorgeous sight above him. Honestly, if he had to chose only one memory to keep forever, it might be this. The esteemed detective, Mr. Sherlock Holmes if you please, whining and fidgeting above him as he rode his cock. It was honestly gorgeous to watch the detective falter as the angle changed and his cock had hit the detective's prostate. Sherlock had let out a rather wanton moan and wiggled, trying to replicated the stroke over and over again so that John's cock'd hit his prostate head on each time. Sherlock was whimpering and cooing - if that's the right word - as wave after wave of pleasure crested over him. John, who had been letting Sherlock take the lead, smiled up at him even started laughing a bit. Sherlock had opened his eyes, brow furrowed in mild confusion, then, still riding him, smacked John lightly on the chest.

"Stop laughing at me." 

"You just look so amazing." Sherlock just raised a brow and continued on his plight, soon aided by John's hands on his thighs, guiding him. John didn't laugh again.

~~~

Three tinny snippets into what John's sex life with Sherlock was light may not be enough to convey a pattern, but John had seen it too many times and was more than ready to talk to the man. They did love each other and had sex often enough, it shouldn't be awkward to talk about it, right? And now is always better then never, right?

"Hey, Sherlock?" John asked, looking up from his morning paper - which, by reading it this late could technically be classified as the evening paper - and over to Sherlock was preforming yet another experiment in the kitchen. Sherlock hums, his indication for _I'm busy, give me a moment._ Sherlock, with the aid of an eye dropper, added some chemicals to what looked suspiciously like human eyes, John couldn't be sure from this angle. Sherlock looked up.

"What's up, John? It can't be time for bed yet."

"That's just it, bed." Sherlock raised an eyebrow at his sweating boyfriend.

"If you want to have sex you just have to ask, no reason to look so nervous." John let out his laugh, the one he always let out when he was uncomforble.

"Ha, no. Um, well, I'd love that, but first... You know that sex can be fun, right Sherlock?" Sherlock gave him a look. "It doesn't always have to be about the end result, it can just be about two people enjoying themselves."

"Really."  
"Yup."

"You wanna test this theory out?"

"It's not exactly a theory, but sure." John manages to mutter before their lips crash together. Kissing was good, as usual. Sherlock was an amazing to kisser, the type where you could kiss him for hours and be content. Of course, John could never be content with just that once Sherlock's hips started to grind against his own. Finally being forced to pull away, half from lack of oxygen, half front the desire to move to a bed - they were way to old to have sex on the floor or table or, hell, a couch - and John laughed.

"Your goggles look great." He said, smiling carelessly. Sherlock makes a move to take them off, but, remembering John's words, decides to take a different angle than normal. He slides them fully over his eyes, while previously they had been resting on his forehead. Then, goggle in position, he slid off John's jumper.

"Hmmm... subject's starting to flush, pupil's dilated." Sherlock moves to cup John through his pants. "Sex semi-erect, subject's showing classic signs of arousel." John, who was confused at first, is laughing.

"It's all because of you." John reaches up for a kiss, but Sherlock pushes him away.

"It's not ethical for scientists to get involved with their subjects." John pouts slightly. "Then again, I've never been one to follow the rules well." And with that, Sherlock pulls off the goggles, tossing them hap-hazardly across the room, and scoops John up in his arms, kissing him again. By the time they finally enter the bedroom more articles of clothing have disappeared and more laughs exchanged. 

"You wanna top or bottom today?" John asked, pullling out the lube. No condoms after they'd had testing done. Sherlock widened his legs in silent answer and John dipped between them. Then, as he stared at the amazing sight before him, he forgot about the lube, tossing it on the bed next to him.

"John, wh- OH!" John had never done this before, but he was going off of feel. He licked around Sherlock's spasiming hole, coaxing it to relax with it's gentle ministration until it was relaxed enough for John to shove his tongue in some. "GOD!" Sherlock grunts and whimpers and moans, squirming and begging begging begging, a desperation John's never seen before. "This is sooo unhygien- uh- unhygienic." In response, John slides a finger in beside his tongue, probing around the velvety tight walls, searching for the spot he knows his going to drive Sherlock insane. " _Shit, John!"_ Sherlock exclaims as John finds it as probes it, messaging it till Sherlock comes with an accidental brush from John's hand. It's unexpected, and totally caused by the new actions. Sherlock, once he comes down from the high, stares at John, a mix of horror and pleasure in his eyes.

"I'm so so sorry, John. That was too early and-"

"Fun, right?" Sherlock stares at him like he's crazy then grins.

"Yeah, it was."

"And anyway," John raises a come covered hand, indicative that he'd been taking care of himself, "It got me off pretty quickly too." And John licked a strip off of his hand causing Sherlock to give him a look of disgust, melting into laughter. John leans forward for a kiss, but Sherlock pushes him away.

"Not until you brush those teeth." 

"Step to far?"

"Step to far." Sherlock says, humming in agreement. John laughs, gets up and brushes his teeth, then wets a towel and wipes them both clean, slipping into bed next to Sherlock. 

"You wanna go to sleep this early?" Sherlock asks, looking at the clock.

"We could, or we could wait-" Sherlock grins as he realizes what John's proposing, "another twenty minutes, finish what we started."

"That sounds great." Sherlock says, kissing John leisurely, eventually sliding his hand down farther, farther, farther...


End file.
